


First Cleanliness Then Godliness

by shutterbug



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Chores, Domestic, House Cleaning, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 18:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutterbug/pseuds/shutterbug
Summary: Edmund comes home to find Jackson cleaning. Things get dirty.





	First Cleanliness Then Godliness

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I blame @iloveallofyounerds. Hand to God, this all started because she needed motivation to vacuum. Things snowballed from there.

As soon as Edmund entered his home, his nose crinkled. The sweet, tarry scent of carbolic permeated the air.

His curiosity piqued, Edmund advanced down the hallway with slow, silent steps. His jaw dropped when he reached the parlour and saw Jackson, his back turned to him. He wore an apron--stolen from the Dead Room--and swiped at the mantel with a ragged cloth. His voice filled the room with a cheerful hum.

Clearing his throat, Edmund entered the room.

Jackson’s feet nearly left the floor as he spun in place. “Jesus, Reid. Make more noise, will you? You’re like a God damned ghost sometimes.”

Edmund smiled, his eyes--and brain--absorbing Jackson’s appearance. The rumpled, dust-dark apron. His toned forearms, bared by rolled-up sleeves. The lock of hair that had fallen away from the rest and now curved across his forehead, like the dark side of a crescent moon.

“What?” Jackson asked. “Never seen a man tidyin’ up before?”

With an amused shake of his head, Edmund approached Jackson. “An _ap_ ron, Captain?” He reached out to lift the strip of fabric that lay over Jackson’s shoulder.

Jackson peered down at himself, then raised his head and offered an unapologetic, sideways smile. “Cleanin’ chemicals are harsh, Reid, and I only got so many clothes.”

Edmund quirked his eyebrows and nodded. He fell silent for several minutes as his eyes roamed over Jackson’s body.

“I got a plant.”

He blinked, refocusing his eyes on Jackson’s face. “What?”

“A plant,” Jackson repeated, then walked to the window, where a small, potted, leafy plant adorned the sill. “For some color. Makes the place a little more homey, you know?”

The sun struck the broad, tear-shaped leaves, and Edmund stared at them. He bit his bottom lip and released a soft, short breath through his nose before he directed his stare at Jackson. Gratitude, the warmth of pleasant surprise, and intense affection for Jackson--all pulled at his chest and threatened to block his throat. He glanced multiple times from the little plant to Jackson’s face. His breaths quickened.

“Look, if you hate it, I can--I don’t know--take it to--”

Edmund darted across the room, pushed Jackson to the wall, and kissed him before he finished his sentence. He worked with frantic hands to untie the damned apron and broke their kiss to rip it away from Jackson’s body.

“I never told you to clean my house,” Edmund said with a rough, breathless whisper.

Jackson closed his lips around Edmund’s earlobe and held it between his teeth as he replied, “Funny how people are capable of doing things without being told.” His lips and teeth scraped down Edmund’s neck before Jackson retraced the same path with wet, open-mouthed kisses. “And it’s _our_ house.”

The rest of Jackson’s clothes, and half of Edmund’s, joined the apron on the floor. Still clad in his trousers, Edmund dropped to his knees and, with hands firm on Jackson’s hips, took Jackson’s hard cock into his mouth.

The minutes that followed became a timeless blur of satisfaction and pleasure. Jackson’s fingers in his hair. His guttural moans and throaty gasps. His earnest, shallow thrusts. The tension in Jackson’s legs, his core, his hips. The twitch of his cock when Edmund’s tongue circled the head. The buckle of his knees when Edmund sucked in one smooth, slow pull from base to tip.

“Reid. Damn, Reid.” Jackson’s hands curled into fists in his hair. “Yeah, that’s it.”

With little further effort, Edmund pushed Jackson to his jerky release. He held Jackson’s hips still as he came, and savored the sound of Jackson’s hoarse, broken voice. Relished the uncontrollable spasm of muscle under his fingertips.

Edmund wiped his mouth as he stood up, then pressed himself, chest to thighs, into Jackson, sandwiching him between the wall and his own body. He tilted his head and sucked at Jackson’s jawline, squeezing Jackson’s arms. Jackson slid his hands down Edmund’s sides and over his hips. He met Edmund’s mouth with a kiss as he unfastened his trousers.

Edmund pulled away, his breath blustering out of him, when Jackson pulled him closer with one hand on his back and made him shudder with the other on his cock.

“You’re up,” Jackson said with a confident smile, stroking him slowly. “Now sit that sweet ass on the sofa, because you won’t be able to stand once I get goin’.”

Edmund pushed his hips forward, reluctant to remove himself from Jackson’s touch. “Perhaps you should have waited until later to clean.”

Jackson chuckled, taking his hand off Edmund’s cock and shoving him toward the sofa. “Don’t worry, Reid. I can turn you into a mess _and_ keep it tidy-like at the same time.”

Edmund took a seat, naked now, and waited, flushed and tense with anticipation. “Well, proceed, then, Captain,” Edmund said and leaned his head back, already half a mess the moment he felt himself surrounded by the wet heat of Jackson’s godly mouth.


End file.
